“One of us should go back to the truck for breakfast supplies. I need bacon, lots and lots of bacon.” Meadow grunts out, never cheerful in the morning without her food, and in the same breath seems to offer to be the one to do it, but I shake my head.
“I’ll go, I need the walk and the headspace. This whole thing is like a dream, and I have no grasp on reality.” I make a move to get up from my butt numbing wooden perch but flinch at the reaction.
“No!” both snap it in unison, instantly hostile and on their feet as though ready to take me down while I blink at them in surprise.
“Luna, you should stay safe, here!” Meadow grinds out harshly, furrowing her brow at me. That no nonsense bossy femme on show and motions me to sit down with a jerked thumb.
“And the babies! You’re going nowhere.” Carmen adds on, brazen with her cold, overly protective tone, then blushes as she realizes the words that came from her mouth sounded almost tender as she turns away to hide her own reaction. Her face flushing red, and she makes herself busy with tidying up our camp.
“I can’t even process…… I don’t feel any different. Maybe she’s wrong and I’m not. Surely I would know right?” I query but Meadow narrows her gaze on me, all doubt missing in her know-it-all expression.
“At the house, Sierra said… ‘are you sure you’re not a little witch’, because of how the book responded to you. Maybe she was right, and it’s not you, but there’s witch inside of you growing now and it’s only logical the book responded to them.”
We both fall quiet, and all eyes stray to my belly from three angles. A pause as it sinks in that Sierra did say that. I even went over it myself through the night and came to the exact same conclusion, and I know for certain my DNA holds no witch. It must come from Colton. And there’s only one way it could. You can’t transfer it any other way.
Myths about vampire bites and Lycan scratches turning humans so easily are folk lore, and it’s almost impossible to turn a human to wolf. I doubt you can pass on witch DNA without a baby, and I know even the vampires have a whole process involved in turning a human to be like them. It’s not just a bite, and boom, vampire. Wolves are born, not made. Yes, even vampires are sometimes born, I assume witches too.
“I’m pregnant.” I breathe out, saying to aloud to myself, to set it in there and push the doubt and disbelief away. I instinctively cover my abdomen with a protective flat hand, shuddering inside as I swallow those words and reconfirm my brain that this is not a dream. “Oh my god. I am so not ready for this.” I blanche and shiver with the sudden wave of cold fear that courses through my body.
“Are we ever?” Meadow smiles, leaning in and rubbing my belly with affection, eyes softening, and then grimaces and casts a glance Carmen’s way almost guiltily. I feel Meadow’s sudden drop in mood, the instant regret at being so careless and hurtful and I’m at least glad to see Meadow has found an ounce of her compassion again. Carmen turns to walk away and seems to be trying to look busy, keeping her eyes averted and her face straight while giving no hint of her emotions away. I can’t ignore them coming from her though, and how overwhelming they are in this moment in small confines. The pangs of heartbreak and loneliness, the bitter despair. I pat Meadow’s hand and give her an understanding look, nodding softly towards Carmen with a downcast flicker of my eyebrows.
Maybe it’s time I go a little easier on her, huh? I mean, she’s been through enough.
Meadow mind links me privately, hitting the nail on the head and I nod. I have nothing else I can add, but an understanding of her loss makes me view things a little differently in the new light of day. Carmen is complex and it seems that one thing after another comes up about this girl which makes me dislike her less and less. She should be curled up in a dark corner, crying her angst out, but she’s not. She’s a fighter, a warrior and she’s probably holding on with everything in her to stop her from crumbling the way her mom did.
They say femmes change when motherhood hits and maybe that’s true. Maybe she didn’t need to carry on to birth for the changes to take effect. Because she became a mother the second that life existed. Just like maybe I’m softer, more compassionate, and stronger in my need to care for my people of late. Maybe that’s because I too have been touched by the maternal bond.
I can’t imagine what Carmen feels or what the lack of that life has done to her since. The hollowness of its absence. Especially knowing she had to save herself and sacrifice her child in the process, all at Juan’s hands. It seems we all have our own personal reasons to hate that man’s existence after all.
“Good, good, you’re up.”
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